


painting the roses red

by ViolyntFemme



Series: Drabbles Domestica [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Brief Description of Blood, I am going to have to write something that's just pure porn to feel like myself again, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Not completely canon compliant, eggsy is the littlest shit ever, overuse of the work fuck because it's me, questionable plant fertilization, questionable suit cleaning, terrorizing the toffs, the second thing I have written without sex, threats to Harry's rugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolyntFemme/pseuds/ViolyntFemme
Summary: “I was just looking out the window and I must say your garden is looking lovelier than ever.”“Yeah, it’s cause of all the blood,” Eggsy says, grinning again, far too many teeth showing for it to be friendly.“Pardon?”





	painting the roses red

**Author's Note:**

> When Drabbles Domestica was a mere glimmer of an idea, I thought it would be funny to write little fics about how things that are completely normal for us are decidedly un-normal when you are a spy.
> 
> Like laundry day. 
> 
> I know most of us HC that the suits are cleaned by the tailors or some other approved cleaners, but wouldn’t it just be easier to hose them off instead? You know they have to get NASTY.
> 
> Full disclosure, I was on my anxiety meds when I wrote this so let me know if it doesn't make sense :)
> 
> This popped me over the 400K word mark on AO3! Yay me!

"Are you going to do it or am I?" Eggsy asks.

Harry turns, placing his fingers against the base of Eggsy’s spine and drawing them slowly up in that specific way that makes Eggsy shiver every time.

“You know how much I like it when you do it, darling, you look so alluring. Wet, muscles bunching under that atrocious…”

Eggsy glares.

“… adorable sportswear you wear. How it makes me feel so loved and cared for.”

“You feel cared for and loved for because I clean our suits?”

“Imminently so.”

“Me hosing down the blood and,” Eggsy squints at the left sleeve of Harry’s suit, “wait, what the fuck is this? Brain, Harry? Fucking rank that is.”

“Being next to someone who had their skull cracked open with a hammer, one you were wielding might I remind you, has a tendency to ensure you end up covered with less than desirable substances.”

Eggsy giggles to himself while still eyeing the bit of gray sludge with distaste. “He was trying to kill you, Haz. I had to do something.”

“He was a meth addict with a tenuous grip on reality and no weapons. I could have handled him while I was still chasing butterflies back in Kentucky. I hardly think it warranted you screaming bloody murder and then slamming the hammer into his head.”

“But it was fun, yeah? Besides didn’t your big, strong, young man saving you from imminent peril make you feel loved and cared for?”

“No, it made me feel slimy and wet.”

“That could be fun too, under the right circumstances.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Eggsy, if you hose down the various blood and vitreous humors from our suits, I will put my tongue in your arse until you beg me to stop.”

Eggsy looks at the suits hanging in the garden. Harry’s bloody with grey matter covering it. Eggsy’s with blood, some grey matter from the same head, and possibly some piss from the addict pissing himself when he died. He then looks at Harry’s mouth.

“Deal.”

As Harry watches Eggsy clean the suits — at one point slipping in the water and going arse first into a rather questionable puddle which made him shout _Goddamnit, Harry_ and which made Harry retire to the loo until he could stop laughing — he has to admit he loves watching Eggsy work up a sweat, and he feels loved and cared for. But most of all he is just glad he doesn’t have to do it.

It’s fucking disgusting.

—————

Eggsy was positive Ms. Bennet would not be making it out of Harry Hart’s Annual Fucking Tea Party alive. The old cow had been following Harry around for the past hour, practically draping herself all over him like a wrinkled stole and exclaiming over everything he did. If Harry chose this moment to fart, she would probably stick her nose straight up his fucking arsehole just to get a better sniff.

Eggsy can't blame her, however. Harry is looking fine as fuckall in his button up, open at the neck to show off those collar bones that make Eggsy’s teeth ache, and his trousers that highlight his arse and insanely long legs. Legs that will wrap around Eggsy’s waist three minutes after everyone finally gets the fuck out of the house.

Two minutes.

Eggsy fingers the sachet of lube in his pocket. A Kingsman is always prepared and Eggsy is the best fucking Kingsman there is.

Eggsy wipes the scowl off his face because he’s a fucking gentleman and gentleman do not scowl at old women who have zero chance in hell with his smoking hot, silver fox of a lover even when said gentleman has already thought of five different ways to render said old cow unconscious and drag her out into the street with a 90% chance of no one noticing.

He smoothes down his slate waistcoat, adjusts his glasses, and makes his way to Harry’s side, nodding politely as he goes.

Fucking gentleman.

"Harry," he leans in and murmurs against Harry’s cheek while giving Ms. Bennet a side eye, "there is something you need to see to in the kitchen."

“Ah, Eggsy, you remember Ms. Bennett,” Harry says graciously while trying to disengage his arm from her hand.

“Of course,” Eggsy says, taking her proffered hand and dropping an air kiss to the knuckles. He’d be goddamned if he was actually touching his lips to her.

“Eggsy, yes, we met a few weeks ago at the Smythe’s dinner party. Where did you say you were from again?”

Eggsy grins as he slips his arm around Harry’s waist, pulling him _to_ Eggsy and _away_ from Ms. Bennett.

“The Estates.”

“What estate, dear?” she asks, false interest as her eyes shoot daggers at the thumb Eggsy is rubbing against Harry’s hip bone.

“Not _an_ estate. _The_ Estates. Council housing.”

Ms. Bennett titters, her hand coming up to hide her crooked, and ghastly smelling teeth. “My dear boy, the jokes you make.”

Harry’s eyes narrow at his pet name for Eggsy. Eggsy internally preens. Externally too.

“Not a joke. My mum works at Tesco now she’s out of rehab, my dad is dead, and my stepfather, may he rot in hell, dealt drugs and stolen electronics.” He leans in as if imparting a secret. “So if you need anyone, or anything," Eggsy winks, "taken care of Ms. Bennett, you just give me a call, yeah?”

Harry digs his nails into the hand around his hip. Ms. Bennett gapes, finally distracted from Harry because she can’t take her wide eyes from Eggsy.

Excellent.

“If you will excuse us, Madam,” Harry says, inclining his head and then practically dragging Eggsy to the kitchen.

“Eggsy,” Harry hisses, “that was uncalled for.”

“But funny,” Eggsy replies as he refills his drink. Scotch, just enough to keep him amiable, or as amiable as he can be with all these fucking snobs walking around and eyeing his arse while looking down their noses at him.

“She is a harmless old woman, she certainly doesn’t need to have a heart attack on my priceless rugs because she thinks I have shacked up with a common thug. She’d probably piss herself and then where would we be?”

“At the fucking antique store buying new ones. And you have shacked up with a common thug,” Eggsy says, leaning in for a kiss which Harry gives him. “You like it. You like me.”

“I love you but I also love my rugs, so tone it down.”

“I’ll tone it down when she stops humping your leg.”

“She’s hardly humping my leg, Eggsy. She enjoys my company.”

“And your arse.”

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose. “That too. The fucking woman has pinched it no less than five times today. I’m sure I’ll have a bruise before the day is over.”

“Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll kiss it all better tonight.”

Harry steps closer, leaning down to whisper in Eggsy’s ear. “Promise?” he asks, grazing his teeth over the outer shell.

“Fucking right, I promise. I’ll kiss it, and then I’ll leave a fucking hickey over it so big you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week without remembering who you belong to.”

“Lovely.”

“Harry?” Ms. Bennett’s voice trills from the doorway, “whatever is keeping you?”

Harry presses his forehead to Eggsy’s. “Her voice makes me nostalgic for Valentine’s signal.”

“I’m sure I could replicate it but that would definitely ruin the rugs.”

“Too right.”

Harry takes one deep breath as he turns and plasters a smile on his face.

“Ms. Bennett, there’s no hiding from you.”

“Unfortunately,” Eggsy mutters into his drink. Harry reaches behind him to flick Eggsy in the stomach in admonishment.

“I was just looking out the window and I must say your garden is looking lovelier than ever.”

“Yeah, it’s cause of all the blood,” Eggsy says, grinning again, far too many teeth showing for it to be friendly.

“Pardon?”

Harry stamps his foot down on Eggsy’s toes but the jokes on him because Kingsman shoes that come with a knife also some with steel toes too. Eggsy doesn’t feel a thing. His grin gets wider.

“All the blood, sweat, and tears we put into it he means. Isn’t that right, Eggsy?”

“Yep, blood mostly though. The flowers just eat that shit right up.” Which honestly, Eggsy thinks is the damn truth, because Harry fucking Hart doesn’t sully his hands tending to it. The only one that touches that overgrowth out there is Merlin, and that’s when he is so stressed he can’t open his jaw enough to say anything but _garden_ through clenched teeth. He goes out there, rips things out of the ground, puts new things in it, and Harry and Eggsy leave him alone until he tracks mud through the house, out the front door, without so much as a fuck you very much.

Fucking Merlin.

Ms. Bennett looks at Harry. Looks at Eggsy’s teeth. Looks at the blooming flowers of reds and pinks and grays.

She suddenly remembers she left the oven on and practically runs out of the house.

_Aces._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated but never required. 
> 
> Self-beta'd, and only once because I am tired, so if you see something I missed, let a girl know, yeah?
> 
> Come see me on [tumblr](http://violyntfemme.tumblr.com).


End file.
